Chapter 16
Idon’t know how I get myself in these messes, but I can’t deny that I need answers.
One mention of that bastard’s name and I’m right back to being a terrified teenager, not the survivor I made myself into after him.
Besides, what fun would it be if someone else got to kill Kane Sai?
If anyone is going to it’s me. That’s my duty, no one else’s.
I’m not saving him for his brothers or even for him, if I’m being honest, but it’s a good excuse.
I promised myself I’d never return, that I’d never once look back, but years have passed and I’m still haunted by what he did.
It’s why I pull up outside of Auto’s Chop Shop, the one place in the city where we go for information like this.
Street rats to bosses alike, Auto’s is the place to get rid of cars and have them replated.
He’s so good, even the police can’t tell the difference, and he’s been in this game a long fucking time.
Propping my helmet on my bike, I head toward the warehouse that takes up most of this corner.
Half disassembled cars line the lot as well as brand-new ones—a mix of old and broken, just like this joint.
The building looks like it’s ready to come down at any minute, with its old and weathered wood sign hanging low on one side.
The lights out front have long since blown, and the sliding shutter door doesn’t even lock anymore.
I duck under it, and the sound of grinding metal meets my ears.
Eyes land on me, and a few of the workers hesitate.
I know someone will have gone to tell the boss, so I don’t bother introducing myself.
Wandering through the oil-stained garage, I move around the cars until I reach the area at the back.
The office door is open, and I know it leads to a private area, a place no one is allowed to go, ever.
Auto is hunched over a bench with plates spread out before him. A lamp is directed at them as he works.
The TV he keeps glancing at is playing the repeat of last night’s game, and he has an open beer to his left, which he reaches for blindly.
Buddy, his fat, snoring, and farting Labrador, doesn’t even move from his feet.
I once asked Auto why he got him, and he told me it was for protection, but I think he just likes having the dog around since he doesn’t even wake up when someone comes close to his master.
I move silently, creeping up on him with a wicked smile, wanting to catch him off guard, but I should have known better.
“And what brings the bitch of the West to my door?” he greets without looking at me. “Karma, it’s been a while.”
“Damn it, how do you always know?” I grumble as I move to his side and hop up on the bench, grabbing another beer from the box.
I hit the top into the side, popping the cap and flicking it toward the bin.
He glances up from the game, his bright eyes locking on me—one is unseeing now, though it doesn’t stop him.
He smirks. “You’re too loud.”
“I’m fucking silent, and you know it. I swear you aren’t human,” I dismiss.
“Everyone has a weakness if you look hard enough,” he replies mysteriously as he leans back, grabbing his own beer as he spins around on his stool. “I’m betting this lovely visit isn’t a social call.”
“Not quite,” I hedge.
“You know I don’t give away customers, Karma, so don’t ask me to,” he warns.
“This is different,” I counter.
“Why?” His words echo in my soul, and despite my best efforts to remain impartial and cool-headed, the truth slips out.
“It’s personal.” He sits upright. Out of all the jobs I do, some do get personal, but nothing close to this one, and he must sense it.
“Well, shit, looks like you do have a heart after all. It’s just a black one. Fine, who are you trying to find through me?” he grumbles.
“The oldest Sai brother is missing.” He probably already knows, and if he doesn’t, I need the information he has more than protecting their secret.
They’ll be considered weak while he’s gone and become a bigger target, but the need for information outweighs that, and if they can’t protect themselves, then that’s their issue.
“The people who took him were in black SUVs with your plates.”
“The Sai brothers? That’s personal? Why are you involved with them?
Don’t be a fool, Karma. They are wild. They use people and then discard them.
They aren’t someone to play with, and you can’t control them like you do everyone else.
The only people they care about is their family, and you aren’t family, girl. ”
“I have my own reasons,” I answer idly.
He scoffs as he looks back at the game. “Everyone has my plates.”
“Five SUVs, top of the line, recently done, and probably used once. I already know. I just need you to confirm.”
His eyes are glued to the game as he sips his beer, and I shuffle closer, lowering my voice. “If it’s who I think it is, then you know better than most why I’m doing this.”
He glances at me, his gaze hard and sad. “Don’t, kid. You’re going to end up dead. Let it go. Leave the past where it belongs.”
“I can’t,” I admit, my voice choked. “I . . . can’t.
If he’s back, I’m not safe, and neither is anyone I care about.
I can’t run and hide this time. Please, Auto, I know I have no right to ask this of you.
You took one look at a scared kid and gave me a fresh start.
” I wouldn’t be here without him. He found me half dead outside of his garage just before dawn, took me in, and nursed me back to health, even when I was a total psycho to him and wouldn’t let him get close without freaking out.
He fed me, clothed me, and gave me a job when I told him I had no home.
When the time came, he gave me a year’s salary after one month of work, a ride, and new papers to get free.
I didn’t go far. After all, this city is all I know, but without Auto, I would have died.
“I have no right to ask any more of you than you’ve already done.
You risked everything to help me, but I’m asking. ”
“You know I don’t fuck with what those bastards do,” he snaps.
When I first met him, he terrified me so much, I lashed out before I realized his anger covered his horror.
“I’m too old, and I know too many secrets about them, but what they did to you .
. .” His face pales as he remembers. “I don’t want them to do it again.
Do what you should have back then. Go far, far away and forget. ”
“I can’t. I can’t forget the taste of my blood.
I can’t forget everything they took from me and did to me.
I have nothing else, Auto, just my family and need for revenge.
” My voice is cold, but memories flash deep inside of the horrors I survived and tried so hard to forget, until I heard his name again.
His sigh is deep, and he drains his beer as he looks at his game. My shoulders slump. “Thanks anyway—”
“The file is upstairs on my desk.” I sit stoically as his words sink in.
“The ones who ordered the plates, it’s upstairs.
” He gives me a meaningful look. “I can’t tell you or give it to you, but if you were to happen to take it .
. . well, what’s an old man to do?” My smile is slow but bright.
“Don’t look so pleased, kid. I can’t do anything, but the gang members in the garage will have to.
The code, you know that. You’ll have to get past them. ”
“That I can do.” Standing, I go to turn when his hand catches mine, greasy and rough but familiar.
“Don’t kill them, kid. They are just doing their jobs,” he implores.
“Sure thing, old man.” I head to the office door, and it sticks like usual.
I have to ram my shoulder into it for it to open, and then I take an immediate right and head upstairs, knowing I don’t have long.
They creak under my weight, and old memories of dragging my tired feet up them after cleaning the garage make me smile wistfully.
I was so young back then, no muscle or know-how, and Auto wouldn’t go easy on me no matter what.
I learned after a while it was his way of showing he liked me.
He pushed me harder than I’ve ever been.
Most people would have broken, but I’d been broken a long time before.
There was nothing left to destroy, and when you’re at rock bottom, the only way is up.
I worked my ass off for my freedom with greasy, broken nails and sore muscles, and then I worked some fucking more to get where I am.
Nobody is taking that from me again.
Nobody.
At the top of the stairs, the wooden door is already open. I step into the small office space to the left instead of the living quarters to the right. The smell of tobacco and whiskey hits me, calming my nerves and making me feel at home, for as short of a time as it was.
Sad but true, even sadder is that it was the safest home I ever had until Taylor.
The ancient computer is off, and I don’t bother booting it up.
Auto is an old-school man, all handwritten and memorized in his brain.
The curtains are partially shut, the lamp on the desk is on, and his chair is kicked back from lounging.
I hurry through his notes, reading his chicken scratch in ways most probably couldn’t until I find the order I need.
As I scan the paperwork, my stomach sinks as I see the billing information.
I was right.
The head of whoever orders has to pay. It creates a paper trail to protect Auto, and right there is the one name I never wanted to see again—Butcher.
My hands crinkle the edges of the paper as my eyes close. It’s him. It’s really him, and that means there is no more hiding, not that I have been. I’ve been waiting for this moment.
Swallowing hard, I open my eyes as I hear a clank downstairs.
“Come on, Karma. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be!” someone calls. “Rules are rules.”